


Nucleation

by neolithics



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Old Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-15 03:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14150823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neolithics/pseuds/neolithics
Summary: March was a total and utter dick of a month. Steve had a science project--and a pair of fancy rings--to put it to right.





	Nucleation

March was a total and utter dick of a month.  
  
In a span of 4 weeks, Five-0 had worked a grand tally of 15 cases: 9 homicides, 5 narco, and a particularly harrowing kidnapping case involving Mamo's daughter-in-law. The last case ended with, in true Team McGarrett fashion, a literally massive bang. To add insult to injury, 5-0 had to weather the aftermath with a 3-day booking at the hospital, sporting bruises, first-degree burns and tinnitus, instead of the much-preferred R&R in Oahu.  
  
'It's as if the scum of the Earth have decided to come together on this godforsaken island,' Danny once said morosely. 'Like a crime circus. The Maniacal Mystery Tour.'

It was mid-March then. They were en route to Steve's house to retreat with boxes of Chinese takeaways and cans of beer on the beach in much-needed peace. Danny had undone his tie and was slumped against his seat, all sore limbs and dead weight.   
  
'It's been 2 weeks since Gracie's birthday. About time to let the clown thing go, bud.’

Just like that, Chuck Norris in cargo pants had chop-housed the heart of the issue. 'That bastard was  _shifty,_  Steve,’ Danny had insisted shrilly. ‘If I hadn't kept a close eye on him he might’ve kidnapped a child! _My_ child!'  
  
Steve had laughed then. But a couple of days later he had ordered Kono to shoot the very same clown on the head--an easy target in his fiery orange wig with a severe side-parting--after the fucker had refused to release his hostage: Pamela de la Costa, daughter of a rich Cuban family, and in full bubblegum pink attendance at Gracie's birthday. Danny was screaming bloody murder throughout the entire thing.  
  
Cat Stevens had it all sussed out in 1970:  _Ohh, baby, baby, it's a wild world._  
  
After paying the governor a courtesy call after their last case, Steve had driven straight home, called Danny and the rest of 5-0 to make sure they did the same, and hibernated for 12 hours. He hated the heady feeling of oversleep and especially rued missing his morning swim, but it was a small price to pay to feel human again.  
  
Steve had every intention to make the most out of his first proper weekend. The 10-minute drive to Danny's flat, a quaint, cosy unit a few blocks from Aina Haina Primary School, was uneventful.  It was a peaceful, friendly neighbourhood, perfect for a small family--a fact that Steve acknowledged with a mixture of relief and regret. He's open to any reason for Danny to finally move in with him for good, even desperate enough to move Danny’s coveted television into his bed room. But Danny had flat-out refused.  
  
'I need to show them something to keep Grace,' Danny said, 'and unless you're agreeing to a conjugal ownership of your house and your beach then I can't fucking move in with you, Steven.' All of Steve's arguments came to a crashing halt at that, and the subject was dropped. They didn't talk for the next couple of days until the assault on Mamo.  
  
Like he said: March was a total and utter dick of a month.  
  
It was, of course, not in Steve's nature to drop the issue easily. He was a man of unwavering commitment, and he had a fancy, velvet box tucked away in his dresser to prove it.  
  
Steve knocked. There was some loud clatter and some swearing, before the bolt was undone and the door opened. 

Danny sported a bright red splatter on his chest, and strings of paint hung limply from his hair. He looked like a murder victim from the 1950s.  
  
‘Babe,' Steve began earnestly.  
  
'Don't.’ Danny wagged a finger close to Steve's face. 'I've been working on this _thing_ for hours, and my favourite shirt might be permanently ruined with this red shmoop. I'm not exactly in a cordial mood right now.'

Danny moved from the door and Steve eased himself in. 'What thing?' he asked, but the sight that greeted him made all his other questions die on his throat.  
  
Damp sheets of newspaper were strewn all over the floor, along with streaks of red-orange paint and some white, sticky debris. There was an acrid smell coming from God knows where. Without context, Steve would’ve called in a 10-45.  
  
'What the hell happened here?' Steve gingerly picked up something that looked like balled-up newspaper, but he wasn't too sure. 'Should I be concerned that you're making biochemical weapons?"  
  
'I,' Danny began testily, swatting the ball of gump off Steve's fingers, 'am making Gracie's science project. And I thought, what could possibly go wrong with the American 5th grader classic volcano? That was basic, right?' He kicked a couple of crumpled newspapers to make room and sat in it. ‘I spent _hours_ on YouTube watching that useless tutorial on how to make Coke explode.' Danny grimaced at his ruined shirt. 'Remind me never to trust the Internet ever again.'  
  
‘YouTube, babe? Really? You should've called me.’  
  
'I didn't know Steve the Science guy made house calls,' Danny quipped. 'Okay, I considered that, but then I thought, I was making a volcano. Which explodes, in real life,' he made little exploding gestures with hands ,'and knowing you, you'd be jumping at the chance to blow stuff up. I decided I wasn't ready to put my daughter and her school at risk with a pipe bomb disguised as papier mache.'  
  
‘You really think I’d rig your daughter’s science projects with actual explosives.’  
  
'You slipped a live grenade into a perp's trousers, Steven. My opinion isn’t entirely unfair.'  
  
Steve sighed. 'How long have we got to...' he waved at the general mess, '...to put it together?'  
  
'Afternoon. After tennis lessons and lunch with Step-Stan.' Danny wrung his hands. 'I mean, why does Stan always get off lightly, huh? He gets to eat surf and turf with my daughter while I end up with my dignity and half my wardrobe in ruins.'  
  
'Danny, if Step-Stan offered to make Grace a volcano you'd be promising an eight-foot fibreglass model with fireworks.'  
  
‘That is true,' Danny said mournfully. ‘Now how am I supposed to manage that when I can’t even manage to blow up a goddamn Coke?'  
  
The look of genuine distress on Danny's face made Steve want to blow things up for real. Instead, he closed his eyes, counted to three, and decided, 'I'm taking you back to my house.' He nodded at the mess. 'Come on. Let's get this cleaned up.'  
  
'No, no, no.' Danny said, his eyes flashing wildly in panic. 'Not your house. That's where you keep grenades and flash bombs and C45s.'  
  
Steve crossed his arms. ‘Do you really want to stay here and try to save _that_?'  
  
Danny glared at the disaster in front of him for a full, glum minute. Finally, he raised his hands in surrender. 'Okay. You're allowed to help me out on this.' He poked Steve in the chest. ‘But there will be no bombs or gunpowder or any pyro-shenanigans of any sort involved, McGarrett.'

'That doesn't even need saying.' Steve rolled his eyes. 'We're gonna have to drop by a DIY store, though.'  
  
'Yeah, I could use a strong air freshener,' Danny said tiredly. 'The landlady will definitely kick me out if she finds out I'm responsible for the vinegar.'  
  
*  
  
They bought several bags of plaster of Paris, food colouring, a fresh tub of paint and--with some coaxing from Steve--Coke and Mentos, and immediately set to work in Steve's shed. Danny and craftwork obviously did not agree; even Steve was amazed by how Danny had managed to smash the fully dried plaster volcano into pieces. They eventually compromised by assigning painting duties to Danny, while Steve did the rest.

What Steve did not foresee was Danny on his elbows and knees as he added tiny details down the volcano's body, innocuously presenting a tempting view of his round and copious arse. Only the thought of responsible parenthood was keeping Steve's arms crossed tightly over his chest. 

'What did you do for your science project, anyway?' Steve asked, staring pointedly ahead at a can of motor oil.  
  
'The solar system.' Danny said. 'Nicked one of my mom's coat hangers and hung cut-outs of the nine planets. Took me less than fifteen minutes.'  
  
Steve made a thoughtful noise. 'Not at all spectacular, but effective.'  
  
'That's me.' Danny finally straightened up. 'How about you, huh? How did your school even survive you?'

'Stop making me sound like a Russian terrorist,' Steve said. 'I made a generator. It lit up some Christmas lights.'

Danny whistled. 'How'd that turn out?'  
  
'Pretty well, actually.' Steve won first in the Science Fair, but Danny didn't need that obnoxious detail. 'You done, Maestro?'  
  
'I think so.' Danny inspected his handiwork, looking quite pleased with himself. Steve gave the volcano a look-over and whistled in approval. 'That's pretty impressive work, Danno. It looks exactly like a perfectly healthy volcano ready to burst.'  
  
'I'm not completely useless,' said Danny, with some conviction.  
  
'Course you're not. Stay still.' He snagged a rag from the table and gently dabbed at the streaks of paint on Danny's face. 

Danny froze. 'I don't have paint on my hair again, don't I?'

Steve pinched Danny's nose. 'The mullet's fine, babe.'

Danny swatted his hand half-heartedly, looking a lot more chipper than when Steve found him that morning. 'Right, I'm gonna hit the showers. I've got to pick up Gracie from the Hilton.' He popped a quick kiss on Steve's cheek. 'I'm borrowing a shirt and the car, yeah?' 

Danny emerged ten minutes later wearing the worst shirt in Steve's wardrobe--a canary yellow 'I <3 L.A.' top that Mary bought as a souvenir, which he never wore and had forgotten about until Danny somehow dug it up. It screamed Mainland as loudly as Danny's ties and tight shirts, and Steve said as much.

He flashed a dopey grin as Danny flipped him one as he drove off. It was precisely those moments that made them, _them,_ after all.

'You did good, McGarrett,' he said, satisfied, and popped inside to reward himself with a cold beer.

*

'Sorry I'm late,' Danny huffed, as Grace immediately tackled Steve with a tight hug around the middle. Danny had been gone for a few hours, unusually long enough for Steve to breathe a sigh of relief at the sound of his Tahoe trundling into the garage. 

'So I swung by Foodland to buy some stuff. The lines were ridiculous.' Danny shifted some of his grocery bags to cover Grace's ears. 'There was this woman who jumped the queue. Middle-aged, practically bathed in perfume--she could have cleared out the smell of vinegar in my flat within 5 minutes of being there. 5-inch heels and botox in all the usual places.' Danny fumed. 'I told her off and she went ballistic.'  
  
'Should've booked her, babe,' said Steve, as he took a grocery bag from Danny's arm.  
  
'Well, I told her I was a police officer and I could legally throw her out the store because I saw her harassing a grocery clerk and causing a public disturbance,' Danny said, then removed his hands from Grace's ears. 'That shut her up real fast.'  
  
Steve shook his head. 'Hawaii's crawling with the type these days, man.'  
  
'She was really mean, Uncle Steve,' Grace said.  
  
'But your old man took care of that pretty well, huh?' He ruffled Grace's hair. 'Tell you what else Danno did today, Grace. How about you go for a swim with me then we take a look at your science project. What do you think?'  
  
Grace's eyes widened, and she turned to Danny. 'You actually made a volcano?'  
  
Danny blinked. 'Well, technically, Uncle Steve--'  
  
'--helped, but yeah, Danno did.'  
  
There had been countless moments Steve had burnt into his memory ever since Danny and Grace came into his life, but the amazed, adoring look Grace gave her father then was certainly one of the best.

'Does it explode? Does it spew out rocks, like--?'  
  
'No rocks, sweetheart, because that can hurt someone. But yeah, it does explode a bit.'  
  
Grace smiled sweetly. 'Thanks, Danno,' she said, wrapping her arms around Danny, and Danny immediately mumbled 'I love you too, baby,' against her shoulder. Steve turned away ('Your macho navy heart could only take so much tenderness in a day, huh,' he could almost hear Danny say), but not without catching the curious look--part soft, part wondering, part something else he can't put a finger on--on Danny's face.  
  
Grace turned to him. 'Thanks for helping too, Uncle Steve.'  
  
'Shoots, kiddo,' he said. He gestured for a fistbump, but Grace shook her head and opened her arms for a hug. Steve chuckled, caught her under her arms instead and twirled her around.  
  
'Uncle Steve! M'dizzy!' Grace squealed. Steve let her down.  
  
'Right, monkey,' Danny cleared his throat. 'What about that swim, huh? Uncle Steve's raring to go.'  
  
'I'm gonna teach you some cool diving techniques,' said Steve.  
  
Grace giggled. 'Will you teach me the whale dive, Uncle Steve?'  
  
Danny placed a hand over his eyes ('He's acting like he's fucking twelve,' Danny had muttered) and shooed the pair onto the porch before Steve can do his disturbing wiggling motion interpretative of a Hawaiian day octopus.  
  
Steve paused. 'You're not coming with us?'  
  
'I, uh, got stuff to do.' Steve blinked at this, then the gears blinked into place. Foodland. The paper bags on the counter. 'Oh no,' Steve said, panic seeping into his voice. 'There's cooking involved? Please tell me there's no cooking involved.'  
  
'If you don't go out and check on Grace right now it will involve your face and a frying pan. Out. Now.' And he bodily shoved Steve out the back door.  
  
'The pineapple frittatas, Danny. The chicken, Danny. I think we've had enough incidents for me to be rationally concerned--'  
  
But Steve never got to tell Danny the long list of things that was rationally concerning whenever Danny was in the kitchen, as Danny had slammed the door of his own house right up at his face.  
  
*  
  
When Danny had not emerged from his house exactly an hour and 27 minutes later, Steve decided it was time to infiltrate. He made quick work of climbing up the palm tree and leaping onto his upstairs porch. It was too quiet, which was a cause for worry. He tiptoed down the stairs and slithered into the kitchen.  
  
Of all the things he expected to see, it was definitely not Danny Williams in an apron and, Jesus H. Christ, mittens. Steve swore as he caught his elbow on the counter.  
  
'Fucking a--Steve!' Danny whipped around, wielding a spatula, his face a right picture of shock. Steve would have been hooting with laughter if not for the banging pain on his elbow. 'Geez, what the hell's the matter with you? Are you alright? Where's Grace?'  
  
'She's out of the water, Danno.' Steve waved Danny off when he started to open his mouth. 'I just came in to check on you. It was too quiet!'  
  
'How the hell did you even get in?'  
  
Steve shrugged. 'Veranda upstairs?'

Danny glared at him for a moment and mumbled something that sounded like 'wet ninja animal' as he pulled out a dish tray. 'I'm almost done, so no need to get your cargo pants in a bunch.'

Steve gave Danny a lusty once-over and grinned. 'I'm starting to reconsider the idea of you in the kitchen. You look dead sexy in an apron, babe.'  
  
'Any more smart comments and you're eating takeaway.' Danny pulled the apron over his head and threw it at Steve's face, but not before Steve caught the flush that had crept up Danny's neck. 

Steve heard the door click open and Grace shout 'Danno!' at the sight of her father. He stepped out the porch just in time to see Danny welcome a bruising tackle, grunting as Grace's elbow caught him in the gut.  
  
'Easy there, Monkey.' Danny gasped, slightly winded. 'Had fun out there with Uncle Steve today?'  
  
'Uh-huh,' Grace said. 'Uncle Steve dove underwater and got this huge seashell.' She made a sizeable gap between her hands. 'Then I made a sandcastle. You wanna see?'  
  
'Do I wanna see? Of course I wanna see.' Danny said. 'Let's get you dried up first, okay?'

Steve handed over Grace's favourite towel--bright pink and printed with cartoon versions of the twee boys from One Direction which, on any other occasion, Steve would've happily traded for a live grenade. But it was just one of the collection of Grace and Danny's things in his house that had grown steadily over the past few years, as the Williams' entrenched themselves more firmly into Steve's life.

Danny rubbed her sides playfully, and Grace giggled as she batted him off. 'Stop, Danno, that tickles!'  
  
'That's for having lunch with Jordan Jameson,' Danny chided.  
  
'He's just a friend,' Grace whined. She peeked out from under the towel and reached her hand out to Steve. 'Come on Uncle Steve! You should see, too!'  
  
'Yeah, Uncle Steve,' Danny said, eyes twinkling.

It's hard not to want this for the rest of my life, thought Steve, as Danny's little girl caught his hand in one of hers and Danny's in the other. He immediately made plans to re-decorate the spare room with things that Gracie liked--Harry Styles posters, a royal four-poster bed with a shimmering pink canopy--anything to make her feel and know that this here, the world between the three of them, was home.

*

Steve was changing out of his wet clothes when the delicious, greasy smell of meat and baked cheese wafted into the room.

'Something smells great.' He poked his head into the kitchen. 'Did you order out?"

Danny cracked a smug grin. 'Nope. That's coming from your oven, buddy.'

'Danno made lasagna!' Grace announced.

‘Well, well, look at you.’ Steve wrapped an arm around Danny, impressed. 

'You only make lasagna when we’re celebrating something,' said Grace. ‘Are we celebrating something, Danno?’

Danny coughed. ‘Just a special treat for you and Uncle Steve,' and his eyes caught Steve’s for a moment, bright with affection, 'because we’re going to bag first prize in the science fair with our little wonder of the world. And my lasagna sure beats a box of that atrocious ham and pineapple pizza silly Uncle Steve likes.' 

'Danno's lasagna is the best,' Grace agreed, and father and daughter shared a fistbump.

Steve pulled up a chair. 'You went through all this trouble to avoid a ham and pineapple pizza?'

Danny sniffed. 'Where I'm from, that thing is a crime against humanity,' he said as he cut each of them a generous slab, and Steve would be lying if he said his mouth didn’t water. ‘Iolani ought to be sued for having it up on their menu alone. Honestly.’

'Exactly my thoughts about plastic grass skirts,' said Steve, before shoving in a mouthful of pasta. He may have made a weird noise because Danny was smirking at him from across the table. 

'Is there anything you'd like to say to me, McGarrett?'

Steve immediately said, without thinking, 'Marry me, Danno.'

The problem was it didn't sound casual enough. Danny looked justifiably stunned.

Steve has always been prone to the odd bouts of recklessness, but that was only natural with a job that feeds off on adrenaline. This, however. He thought this one through, from the colour of the box to the number of pigs he'll have roasted, if it ended well. He thought about the controversy outside the 5-0 team, especially among members of the HPD. He thought about the custody case and the counts of discrimination against same-sex partners. Steve, however, was an idealist, and he liked to think America was coming to terms that love was a decision to be made freely and recognised without prejudice, especially in a country that prides itself as the steward of freedom. 

He had never been more certain of a decision in his life than when he bought that lovely velvet box with two plain gold bands in them, simple and perfect. Danny would have liked how no-nonsense they were. It was all going to plan; he was just biding his time.

Then quite stupidly he said the words. Pulled the trigger prematurely and shot himself on the foot, because he was a bad idiot in several derivatives.

It was all lost to sea, until Danny let slip a fond, slightly exasperated grin.

'Don't get ahead of yourself. The volcano was impressive, but you can't win me over with just flashy geeky know-how,' he said. Steve wasn't sure what to make of the tone. 'Besides, we haven't even checked if the volcano's properly working yet.'

'It's gonna blow you away,' Steve promised.

Danny frowned slightly. 'My brain tells me I should feel worried whenever you say that.'

*

Grace didn't share a whit of her father's anxieties. She was bouncing on her heels as Steve finally brought out the volcano for the demonstration, Danny at his side with a bottle of Diet Coke and mentos in hand.

'I'm a bag of nerves. For real, now,' Danny whispered. 

'Don't worry bud. Me too.'

Danny scoffed. 'You? Ex-Navy SEAL commando ninja spy Super Steve, _nervous_?' 

'Can't afford to lose face here,' said Steve, and he meant it. Steve was no stranger to occasions where there was pressure to perform--leading a major takedown, facing the press, breaking the bad news to a victim's family--but the thought of Grace's face, full of regard and pure, innocent expectation suddenly crumbling with disappointment, made Steve's stomach curl with anxiety.

They all knelt on the sand together, Grace watching intently as Steve and Danny slipped the volcano model over the bottle. She asked, full of wonder and curiosity, 'What will make the volcano explode, Danno?'

It was a question for Steve the Science Guy, and Steve was about to jump in, but Danny had quickly replied, 'It's a combination of chemical reactions, sweetheart. The main one's called nucleation. The rough surface of the candy traps the bubbles in the soda to form larger bubbles, which all float and shoot upwards, similar to how lava flows out of a volcano.'

Steve stared at Danny, slightly nonplussed. _YouTube_ , Danny mouthed smugly.

Steve shook his head in amusement, then handed Grace the small tube of Mentos. ''Time to light up the fireworks, Gracie.'

Grace whooped and excitedly tore at the wrapper. Danny's frown, however, deepened.

'It didn't look very safe on YouTube, though. They go up quite fast,' he said.

Steve sighed. 'Do you really think I'd let your daughter near anything extremely dangerous?'

'I can't help it if I worry a lot, okay?'

'You worry _too_ much, man.'

'That's from the stress of working with you!'

'Ooh. Low blow, Danny boy--' Steve's heart froze. ' _Gracie, wait--'_

Chin warns them about this, all the damn time--how their bickering would eventually lead to a perp getting away, or a violent mob catching them unawares, or, in particularly tense circumstances, get them both killed in a very stupid and embarrassing manner. Kono often simply tells them to get a room.

Steve watched Grace shove in several pieces of Mentos into the fizzing mouth of the Coke bottle, and conceded both may be right.

It only took a split second, just enough time for Steve to pull Grace out of the blast radius and any real harm, before a jet spray of Diet Coke shot out of the volcano's caldera and twelve feet up into the air, before raining down on Steve, Grace and Danny's flabbergasted face.

A few seconds of stunned silence passed, until Grace shrieked, 'That was  _awesome!_ ''

Danny took the brunt of the accident, his buoyant hair sopping wet, the hideous yellow shirt damp and stained with syrupy brown. Steve would completely understand if Danny didn't share Grace's enthusiasm. In fact, he was sure Danny was going to murder him later by shoving a deadly amount of Coke and Mentos into his mouth before finishing him off with a Hollywood one-liner: 'Have a blast with  _that_ ,' or something just as banal.

Steve's jaw dropped when Danny dissolved into peals of loud, unabashed laughter, instead.

'That's gonna win it, kiddo. That's gonna blow the rest of them out of the water!'

'I wanna see how high it goes,' said Grace excitedly. 'Can we make it go higher, Uncle Steve?'

'Make it go higher, Uncle Steve,' Danny parroted, the worrywart completely turned.

Steve looked at the loves of his life, their faces brimming with wonder, and thought yes, I'll make it go high enough to make the USGS shift uncomfortably in their seats.

They set up a recorder and watched, screaming and laughing, as the volcano erupted twenty-five feet into the air with a warmer soda bottle and another tube of Mentos.

For his troubles, Steve got a kiss from Grace and Danny, one on each cheek. It was, without a doubt, one of Steve's most glorious moments in recent memory.

Winning the lot and going viral on YouTube a few days later was just the cherry on top. 

*

When Grace had been tucked into Steve's bedroom, Danny took out the Longboards and the pair settled on the beach to enjoy the rest of the evening with crisps and drinks. For a few minutes they just sat, nursing their beers in companionable silence. Steve watched the waves roll in and out of the sand, the water just barely touching the tips of his toes. He felt all thought bleed out of him--his mind, for once, was satisfyingly, thankfully empty.  
  
'Wish there were more times like these,' Danny said after a while. 'It's been a long time since I've had a weekend without incident.'  
  
'You don't call your great science project disaster an incident?'  
  
'Ha-ha. You know what I mean.'  
  
And Steve does. 'Kono's probably still out there,' he said musingly. Kono had announced she was off-grid for the entire weekend, and if anyone needed her she was in Waipahu beach, waiting with a surfboard to wallop anyone who would dare ruin her much-deserved holiday.  
  
'That girl's something else,' Danny shook his head 'She's taken after you in the worst possible way, McGarrett.'  
  
'I've never felt more pride than when I saw her do a perfect McGarrett throwdown.' Steve said. 'You remember?'  
  
'Course. I had nightmares about that for a day or two.'  
  
Steve took a swig, thoughtful.  
  
'You have that face again,' Danny said warily.  
  
'Face? What face?'  
  
'That face you make when some nut in your crazy head has gone loose.'  
  
Steve licked his lips. 'I was thinking... You wouldn't mind if I taught Gracie a few things, would you?'  
  
Danny choked on his beer. 'What the hell? Why would you teach a 10-year-old the McGarrett throwdown?'  
  
'It's self-defense, Danno.' Steve insisted. 'We can teach her a bit of Judo, or taekwondo, you know? Just the basics. Just in case--what's that boy's name, the one that keeps texting your girl about meeting up for homework?'  
  
Danny stiffened visibly. 'Jordan Jameson. That little punk.'  
  
'Right, Jordan Jameson. Just in case he tried something funny, right?'  
  
'If Jordan Jameson tried something funny he'd be lucky to have a face to speak of,' Danny growled.  
  
'Yeah, well, until you get there Gracie can smash him around a bit,' Steve reasoned, then stopped. 'Did we just talk about beating up a ten-year old?'  
  
'Any boy that just as much breathes within 10 inches of my daughter is a menace.' Danny said.  
  
Danny's overprotectiveness over his daughter will be their undoing as officers of the law, Steve noted. Nevertheless, he raised his bottle. 'To keeping Grace Williams safe from the Jordan Jamesons of the world.'  
  
'I'll drink to that,' Danny said a little too heartily.

They watched the night settle in. The moon solemnly stared at its reflection on the dark mirror of the calm sea, blanketed by an explosion of stars around it. Steve always found it a soothing sight for the soul--it could all go to shit one day, but as long as he made it to the peaceful Hawaiian night, then he knew every little thing will be alright, like Bob Marley said it would.

Danny must've thought the same, as he sighed and burrowed his head into Steve's shoulder. Steve obliged with an arm around him, pulling him close. 'You're awfully cuddly today,' he said with some amusement.  
  
'Yeah, because watching you make a science project for my daughter so turned me on.' Danny huffed mockingly. Steve looked at him, and Danny ducked his head to avoid his gaze. 'Okay, you egocentric bastard. Maybe a little bit.'

They basked in their shared warmth in silence, until Danny said, almost inaudibly, 'I was watching you today with my girl, you know. And I thought I could get used to this. You, me, and Gracie.'

'Not doing too bad, are we?'

'Yeah, who would've thought,' Danny chuckled. 'I used to get a little envious when I saw families at Grace's school. At beaches, at the parks. They were everywhere. Happy and complete.' He voice hitched a little. 'I've let that dream go once, but I'm back. I'm one of them again. I have the other parent and a beautiful kid and we're all together.'  
  
' _Ohana_ feelings,' Steve said. 'So that's what the moony eyes were about.'  
  
'I was trying not to put it like that,' Danny said, looking away. 'Way to totally ruin the moment, man.'  
  
Steve turned Danny's face towards him, his head swimming with the sudden rush of happiness from finally being able to look at Danny like this, after all these weeks. 'You do realise you just called me "the other parent"?'  
  
'Yeah, I did.' Danny whispered. At the look on Steve's face he added, incredulous, 'What, you want me to call you mom?'  
  
Steve laughed breathlessly. 'You and Gracie can call me whatever you want, babe.'  
  
Then, for the first time that day, he kissed Danny--slowly, lazily, luxuriously. Steve felt like it was the least they both deserved for holding out for so long, with only quick and frantic kisses to sustain them for weeks of blood and hurt. Danny shifted further into his lap, inviting, so Steve pressed light, adoring kisses along Danny's newly shaved jaw, then just under, and along the curve of Danny's neck. He couldn't resist swiping a tongue along the swell of Danny's adam's apple, and he smiled at the restrained moan from his partner's lips.  
  
'We have to stop, babe, or you're going to turn me on for real,' Danny hissed.  
  
'Who said we couldn't have a go at it at the beach?' Steve began to suck lightly. 'Skinny dipping and beach sex's all the rage.'  
  
Danny yanked at his hair. 'I mean it, McGarrett,' he warned.  
  
'Alright, geez,' Steve pouted and held his hands out in surrender. 'I'm not letting you off that easily, though,' he growled. 'I'm getting a proper compensation tomorrow, Williams. One whole day. Non-negotiable.'  
  
Danny rolled his eyes and rested his forehead against Steve's. 'If that fancy thing I saw in your bedroom today was any indication, I think we've got the rest of our lives,' he said. 'What's the hurry?'  
  
Steve's heart stopped. 'W-What?'  
  
'Grace's got an art project next.' Danny whispered it sweetly, like a proposition. His eyes were wet with emotion. 'We could use a bit of help with that.'

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in 2012 (I think 5-0 was in S03 then, happy days). I forgot about a version I put up on my old blog; came upon it few weeks ago while reading old Livejournal fics, and thought I could push on with it to shake off my writing rut. Not sure if that's worked but had great fun writing dialogue for these boys anyway, who are old-married-couple to the core of the trope.
> 
> Haven't caught up with the last few seasons but the latest one hasn't been stellar, I heard. The news/rumours of Alex O'Loughlin leaving for good is probably the end of the line for the show. 
> 
> But chin up, pals. We'll always have North Korea.


End file.
